


Fire Meet Gasoline

by SlightlyTwistedSilverware, WelshWitch1011



Series: Rarities, B-Sides, & Other Stuff [1]
Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)
Genre: F/M, Quake/Hellfire, Skyeward - Freeform, Skye|Quake, Songfic, SuckItAOSWritersJustSuckIt, WardRedemptionArc, Ward|Hellfire, We'reStillUpsetAboutThatBloodyFinale
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-17
Updated: 2015-05-17
Packaged: 2018-03-31 00:32:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,449
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3957745
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SlightlyTwistedSilverware/pseuds/SlightlyTwistedSilverware, https://archiveofourown.org/users/WelshWitch1011/pseuds/WelshWitch1011
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>'If music be the food of love, play on.' </p><p>First in a series of Skyeward songfics that deal with a Grant Ward redemption arc - you know, the one the writers refuse to give us.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Fire Meet Gasoline

**Author's Note:**

> This one-shot is the first in a collection of Skyeward song-fics we have planned, in a series entitled 'Rarities, B-Sides, & Other Stuff'. (A virtual prosciutto, mozzarella and pesto aioli sandwich to whoever can spot where we 'borrowed' that title from.)
> 
> Everything from 2x19 never happened - there was no Bobbi torturing, no crazy reunion with the equally crazy 33, and no ridiculous Ward/Hydra nonsense. Ward left the team after their mission in 'The Dirty Half Dozen', and they haven't seen him since - that is where this fic picks up. 
> 
> If there's a song that screams 'Skyeward' to you, let us know! May become M or E rated later on, you have been warned!! ;)
> 
> Disclaimer: We do not own the song, that (and terrible diction) belong to Sia. It pains us to say that we don't own AOS either - if we did, things would be less sucky. 
> 
> We hope you enjoy reading it!

“Fire Meet Gasoline”

‘It’s dangerous to fall in love  
But I want to burn with you tonight...’

x-x-x

The very first thing that Skye noticed about the target’s location was the fact that it was an enormous cliché; an abandoned warehouse with a corrugated aluminium roof, situated on the San Diego docks, against the backdrop of a pitch black sky dotted with a handful of stars. A thick fog rolled around Skye’s feet and she blew out a tense breath as she rolled the beam of her flash light to the entrance of the building. 

The door was completely missing, a few planks of wood nailed in its place, with gaps between them large enough to allow for a fully grown adult to slip in and out undetected. The entire warehouse was decrepit and beyond salvaging, but that was not Skye’s mission; she just needed the rusted metal structure to remain standing long enough to allow her to duck inside, locate the target and, if necessary, subdue them. 

“Well, this isn’t creepy at all,” Skye muttered, drawing the collar of her jacket further up around her neck with her free hand. She wrinkled her nose as she watched a rat scuttle from a hole in the wall and dash towards the waters edge.

“Gross,” she hissed, beginning to pick her way across the litter and glass strewn pathway that lead up to the door. In her right ear, her comms. device crackled into life, startling Skye so that she leapt the last few steps towards the entrance. 

“Everything okay there, Quake?” Coulson inquired, his tone laced with its usual paternal concern. A smile twitched at Skye’s lips at the use of her operational codename; something which would never cease to amuse her, especially when coming from Coulson’s lips. 

“Five by five, D.C.” came Skye’s succinct reply as she began prying the top board away from the doorway, her torch momentarily laid on the ground. 

“Be careful out there. If this guy’s powers are connected to fire like we think they are, he could be dangerous.”

Throwing the plank of wood aside, Skye paused to reassure her boss and surrogate father figure. 

“If he starts acting crazy, I’ll ‘ICE’ him,” she reassured him, adding good naturedly, “but... I can’t do this if you’re gonna be talking in my ear the whole time.”

“Noted,” Coulson replied, the comms. device suddenly falling silent at her request.

Taking a step inside the aged and crumbling warehouse, Skye wrinkled her nose as clouds of dust billowed up into the air around her. Each footstep disturbed the floorboards beneath her, which were caked in decades of filth. The smell of damp mingled with urine caused Skye’s stomach to swirl and she covered her mouth with her free hand to prevent from gagging until she had grown accustomed to the stench. 

Holding the flash light up at shoulder level, Skye cast a cautious glance around, noting the upturned boxes, rusted tools and various other paraphernalia that the former owners had left behind. 

Skye raised the beam of light up toward the back of the warehouse as a sound caught her attention, and she headed off in that direction whilst retrieving the ICER stowed in her belt.

“Hello?” she called out, taking a few more cautious steps toward the as yet unidentified source of the noise, “is there somebody back there? I’m not here to hurt you, I... I just want to talk.”

The soft sounds of movement escalated quickly into a frantic scrabbling and Skye immediately stood motionless on the spot. She tracked the noise with the beam of her torch until the light was thrown over a shape hunched in the most distant corner of the room. The figure was clad all in black, layers of mud and grime clinging to his clothing and, as he used his hands to cover his face, Skye noted that his skin was littered with small cuts and bruises. 

Instinctively, Skye softened her voice as she added, “My name is...”

“I know your name,” the voice rasped, just the barest hint of amusement colouring his tone which, for the most part, sounded world weary and defeated. “Please... Just leave me alone.”

Skye frowned, something about the stranger undeniably familiar and yet impossible to place at the same time. She wondered, quickly and briefly, if with the thick coatings of grime and fear chipped away, she might recognise the man after all. 

“I want to help you. It doesn’t look like things are going so great here,” Skye persisted, hazarding another step closer to the target, who immediately tensed as he sensed the movement. A rat scurried across the toe of her combat boot, temporarily halting her progress, and Skye shuddered as she watched a thick, scaled tail disappear into the darkness. 

“Stay back...” he pleaded, his shoulders visibly trembling, “please... I can’t... I don’t know how...”

“You can’t control it,” Skye admonished, injecting her voice with understanding and empathy, even as she continued to make small advancements towards the now cowering man. “It’s okay, I can help you.”

“I didn’t mean to hurt them,” he whispered hoarsely, his words a broken echo of ones that Skye recalled speaking herself almost a year ago, when she had first acquired her own powers. A pang of sympathy assailed her and Skye felt her lips twisting into a smile, despite the fact that her target had yet to raise his gaze to her face. 

“It’s okay. It’s gonna be okay, I can help you. I can help you learn to control it... just like... like someone taught me,” she swallowed down the bitter taste the memories of her mother conjured, but she brushed her discomfort off quickly. 

“Get out of here before I hurt you...” he moaned, no element of a threat in his words, only a plea.

“You won’t hurt me,” Skye said with confidence, edging closer and raising the flash light nearer so she could at least try to meet the man’s obviously terrified gaze. 

“Skye, please...” he begged, suddenly climbing to his feet and turning slowly to face her. Skye’s mouth dropped open as her eyes met his at almost the same moment she finally recognised his voice. 

“Oh my God,” she blurted out, unconsciously taking a step back as realisation hit; it was him. Five months after she had last seen him, after he had helped S.H.I.E.L.D. infiltrate Hydra’s base on a rescue mission, here he was again. Except this time, the tables had been turned, and it was he who needed her help. 

And it should have been a vaguely satisfying moment - it should have felt like the wheels of karma had turned to her advantage. But it didn’t. Instead of hatred or loathing, Skye found herself overwhelmed with pity and a degree of concern that shocked her more than the frightened look on his face. 

“What is it? Are you okay?” Coulson’s voice rang out in her ears, and Skye debated whether or not to tell him that their latest Inhuman recruit was none other than Grant Ward. 

“Fine. I’m fine,” said Skye dismissively, moving forward even as Ward shied away from her until his back hit the wall behind. His stare was imploring, and his handsome face was concealed by a beard that hinted at months of self-neglect. 

Making a snap decision, Skye pursed her lips before declaring, “Coulson, I’m turning off comms.”

Skye ripped out her earpiece and allowed it to hang loosely down her neck before the Director had a chance to respond. Her eyes locked with Ward’s, which were red rimmed and puffy, and filled with a kind of torment that Skye had witnessed only once before; the day that she had told him he was to be delivered back to his abusive brother. 

Pushing down her sorrow and guilt, Skye sucked in a breath; not an easy feat given the clouds of dust that swirled in the atmosphere around her. 

“What happened to you?” Skye inquired, doing her best to maintain an even and authoritative tone, despite the fact that she could feel her grip on her powers loosening as each second ticked by. She knew that even the barest of tremors would bring the entire dilapidated building down on their heads, and so she gritted her teeth as she redoubled her efforts to separate her abilities from her warring emotions. 

“I don’t know,” he murmured with a shake of his head. His eyes searched her features as he replied honestly, “I was working a private job out in Phoenix, trying to stay off the radar. Next thing I know...”

Almost painfully slowly, Ward extended a hand, the skin of which was almost black with dirt. Making sure that his arm was outstretched far from the former hacker, he closed his eyes and gritted his teeth. Instantly flames licked at the skin of his palm, flickering and building and winding up into the air until they danced outward from his fingertips in the form of a long chain.

Skye’s eyes widened and she let out a gasp before she could swallow down her shock. Ward stood perfectly still, releasing a groan as he stared at the blazing chain that snaked out from his hand. The muscles in his cheeks twitched and he appeared for several seconds to be grappling with his new-found ability, until he grunted with the effort and the fire was snuffed out. 

“Wait... you were in Arizona?” Skye checked, sliding the ICER back into her belt and then raising her hands in front of her in a placating gesture. She needed him to know that she was not there to hurt him this time; that no harm would come to him unless he forced her hand.

“I woke up in my hotel room in the middle of the night. It felt like I was being smothered. There was this... thing... encasing me, almost like rock. I guess I started to panic and then it got hot... Really hot. The next thing I knew, the shell was crumbling away and there was fire, all around me... I... The hotel...”

“I know,” Skye murmured, watching as Ward brushed the back of his hand across his cheeks, smearing dirt with tears. 

“Ten people,” he replied. In a whisper, he finished, “I killed them.”

Skye resisted the urge to step forward, to tug Ward into her arms and offer him the solace he so desperately craved. She told herself that she held back because she was uncertain how his powers might react to physical contact, but in reality she was ashamed to acknowledge that there was a small part of her that still felt Ward deserved to reap what he had sown. He had thought nothing of ruthlessly dispatching several SHIELD Agents whilst under Garrett’s thrall, and he was hardly one to shy away from violence. Yet for some reason this episode - his loss of control - appeared to have affected him. For whatever Ward had been in his previous life, he was not a serial killer. The red in his ledger was operational, they were targets that had needed to be taken out. Not innocents, not civilians. That just wasn’t how he worked.

“There was a band of rogue Inhumans out in Nevada,” Skye said, staying put for the moment as she spoke, “they managed to get into a bottled water factory and tainted the supply with Terrigen crystal residue. To most of the population, it’s harmless, but for people like me... or... or you, it makes us change. It unlocks our powers.”

“I-I can’t live like th-this,” Ward stammered, and when he lifted his gaze Skye could see his eyes were red rimmed; tiredness and tears. Skye was more than a little taken aback by the sight. It was almost impossible to imagine that anything could have finally broken the Grant Ward she had known - the survivor. 

“Yeah,” Skye drawled, smiling briefly as she reflected on Ward’s reaction to discovering her powers a few months before. “Not as cool as it sounds, huh?”

She regretted her taunt almost immediately, as Ward lowered his head.

“Please Skye,” he whispered, suddenly peering back at her as if she were his lifeline, or his single chance for salvation. The desperation in his eyes was frightening as he implored, “Please... Just kill me.”

“I’m not going to kill you, Ward,” Skye scoffed, rolling her eyes as though the concept was insane at best.

“Why not? You tried once before. Finish the job.” 

He was baiting her, (no hint of accusation or anger in his tone), and she knew it. 

“If I’d wanted you dead, you’d be dead,” she snapped, “I just wanted you to hurt as much as you hurt me.”

There was a beat, a moment of complete silence where they regarded each other with such intensity that Skye almost felt like she had been stripped bare.

Quietly, she added, “You broke my heart.” 

A crestfallen expression was his only response for the longest time, until the crushing and uncomfortable weight of their renewed silence became too much to stand.

“It’s not like I wouldn’t deserve it,” Ward admitted with such honesty that Skye found her anger melting away at the edges. 

“I am not going to kill you,” she repeated, emphasising her determination with each word. “That’s the easy way out, and you don’t deserve easy. Not after everything you’ve done.”

Ward stared at her sharply, his head cocked to one side as he regarded and simultaneously evaluated the woman standing before him. In so many ways she was a stranger to him now; changed and shaped into someone completely different and new to the girl he had hauled out of a van with a bag over her head. He supposed it was only fair since, on his part at least, the relationship with that girl had been built on a foundation of half truths. 

“Now, we’re going to get out of this health hazard, we’re going to shower your filthy ass, and then we are going to train,” Skye insisted, planting one hand on her hip as she continued to regard Ward unwaveringly, “you are going to fight this because that’s what Grant Ward does. Sometimes it’s bloody and hard, and it’s almost never easy... But it is right. I am not letting you weasel out of all the grovelling you have to do before you even come close to making amends for your monumentally assholish behaviour.”

Ward remained quiet, his arms outstretched at his sides and his fingers flexing as he struggled to keep the fire that licked at his resolve at bay. It was with him constantly; taunting, threatening and burning at every last part of him, until it almost felt like he would never manage to smother the flames. 

“I don’t want more blood on my hands, Skye,” he choked out, closing his eyes momentarily as he felt intense heat rushing to his fingertips again. “Especially not yours.”

“Don’t flatter yourself, Robot,” she smirked, and the genuine glint of almost affection caught him off guard, “I’ve picked up a few new moves since you and I last sparred. I’m fairly confident I could kick your ass.”

A flicker of a smile tugged at his lips, and he looked her up and down with a sigh, as if he were debating his very future in that moment. He supposed in a way he was. 

“This is a one time offer, Grant,” she warned, deciding to appeal to the part of Ward that had always wanted to belong. “I’m putting together a team. A team of powered people. If you come with me, if you let me train you...”

She blanched as he chuckled, although there was no amusement in his laughter.

Ward’s expression seemed to set and he glanced back at her dubiously, as if not believing that she would ever possibly contemplate working beside him. Not again. Not that he could blame her, but Coulson’s threats to wipe his memory after his last interaction with the team had him somewhat skittish and disbelieving of her motives. 

“You’d want me on your team?” he folded his arms across his chest, leaning back as he regarded her sceptically, “and what would the others say about that? They weren’t real receptive to me hanging out with you guys again. Neither were you, for that matter.”

“You wouldn’t be working with them, which, given what happened last time, would probably be for the best,” she reasoned. “This is my team, outside of S.H.I.E.L.D.’s radar. I call the shots. And I’m giving you a choice here, Ward, and a chance to make up for every sucky, crappy thing you did to me. I believe you can be the guy I thought you were when we first met. He’s in there somewhere - that wasn’t all an act. So here’s your chance... Prove me right or prove me wrong, it’s your call.”

Bowing his head, Ward considered her offer until Skye began to sigh impatiently. He could imagine the irritated expression on her face without having to even look up to catch her gaze. In the end, it was that brief spark of something familiar, something so tangibly Skye, that won out over the self-loathing voice inside that urged him to just allow himself to burn until he was ashes.

Without a word, Grant nodded slowly and, keeping a careful distance, he walked hesitantly to her side.

As they stepped out into the night air, he blinked against the sting of natural moonlight, and Skye placed a tentative hand on the sleeve of his jacket. 

“Are you sure about this?” Ward pressed in a voice that was hoarse from disuse, since he had spent the better part of a week hiding out in the solitude of the abandoned warehouse. 

Deliberately ignoring the question, Skye set out towards the parking lot, a certain bounce in her step that had not been present when she had first entered the building.

“You’ll need a codename,” she tossed over her shoulder along with a smirk that almost succeeded in setting Ward on fire once more, “oh and, the car’s a rental, so try not to light it up.”

　　x-x-x

Pacing the hallway outside the interrogation room within the Avengers training compound, Skye pursed her lips and tried to calm the frantic thrumming of her pulse as it hammered in her throat. They had disappeared into the darkened grey walled room almost two hours ago and so Skye had almost worn a trench in the corridor, all the while cursing the fact that ‘enhanced super hearing’ was still not amongst her skill set. 

Finally, putting her out of her arguably self-inflicted misery, the door to the room opened and Andrew Garner strolled out, clutching a wad of files in his hand. His demeanour was nothing short of exhausted, which didn’t do much to calm Skye’s nerves. 

“Well? How crazy is he?” she demanded, foregoing any pleasantries. 

Andrew’s smile was small as he slipped the files into his briefcase before straightening up to regard the agent. 

“He’s not,” he replied simply, chuckling as Skye shot him a thoroughly disbelieving look. 

“You evaluated the right guy, yeah?” Skye checked, moving as though to duck her head around the doorway. “You want me to check it’s actually Ward in there?”

“Ward’s not crazy. He shows signs of emotional trauma, PTSD, depersonalization,” Andrew paused, shrugging as if that should have been evident already, “clinical depression. But I don’t see any evidence of a personality disorder. I’m recommending antidepressants, and the most intensive course of therapy S.H.I.E.L.D. has ever paid for. You might want to tell Coulson to take a look at a few budget cuts.”

Skye folded her arms across her chest and pushed the psychiatrist for an answer, “So he’s not a raging psychopath or anything?”

Andrew smiled and shook his head, “No. But I can’t in good conscience clear him for the field, if that’s what you’re asking.”

“I wasn’t,” Skye said firmly, glancing toward the closed door as if trying to summon up the power to peer through it, “with respect, Andrew, that’s my call. Ward needs this. He needs a cause to work toward... Something to fight for.”

Andrew frowned, shaking his head as if Skye had clearly missed the bigger picture. 

“You have to know?” he queried, licking his lips uncomfortably as he stared at the young agent. “He already has that, Skye. It’s you. You’re the reason he’s here.”

“Once upon a time, I might have believed you,” Skye murmured in reply, shaking her head as she contemplated the road that they had travelled so far; the road that had led them to the impasse they had reached, where neither of them could tell up from down, and the future was a terrifyingly uncertain prospect. 

“But now?” Andrew asked, leaning his arm against the wall as he watched Skye, his features drawn into a stoic mask that gave nothing away. 

“Now I...” Skye trailed off, a half smile suddenly twitching at her lips as she continued, “no, okay, we’re not going there. I called you in to evaluate Ward, not to work your sneaky-sneaky mumbo jumbo on me.”

“Wouldn’t dream of it,” Andrew bit back, his own smile wide and unabashed as he gave a tiny shrug, clearly writing his attempt at analysing Skye off as a loss. 

“Thank you for all your help. I really appreciate it,” said Skye, folding her arms across her chest as she glanced again at the door behind which Ward waited. She gnawed at her bottom lip with her front teeth, something more evidently gnawing at her conscience. Anticipating as much, Andrew waited, his notes tucked under his arm to provide a weighty reminder of the hour and a half initial assessment he had just performed on his newest patient. 

“Do you...” Skye paused, taking a deep breath before she managed to recover the strength to press on, “do you think I’ve done the right thing? Bringing him here, I mean.”

Andrew let out a sigh and frowned at the young woman before him, his concern as a friend far outweighing his reservations as a psychiatrist. Finally, he seemed to arrive at a suitable answer. 

“As his doctor... Absolutely not. There is no way on God’s green Earth that that guy in there should be doing anything more than eating Jell-o cups and finger painting at a pleasant residential facility,” Andrew responded, shaking his head as he mulled over his words, “but as your friend, and strictly off the record... Yes, I think you’re doing the right thing. He’s a broken man, Skye, and if he can’t find the motivation to put himself back together... Well, my best guess is, he’d find a way to put himself out of his own misery, and that’s not something I think either one of us wants to have to live with.”

“No, it’s not,” Skye murmured. Despite the fact that Andrew had given voice to her greatest concern, it caused her no less distress to hear him confirm it aloud. 

“Tell May I said ‘hi’, okay?” Skye said, forcing a smile, and the psychiatrist eyed her analytically, “and... that I miss her.”

“Tell her yourself. She’d love to hear from you more often. She worries about you, you know,” he informed her, betraying a confidence he hoped his ex-wife/girlfriend would never find out about. 

A genuinely pleased smile tugged at Skye’s lips, although thoughts of May were usually now accompanied by memories of their altercation in the Afterlife, when she’d been too busy falling under the thrall of her biological mother to see that the only real maternal presence in her life was the S.H.I.E.L.D. Specialist. Although the women had worked together since, their relationship had never been fully repaired and that was something that would continue to haunt Skye. 

“Well, maybe I’ll call when I get a few minutes?” Skye fished, wondering how receptive her former SO would be to the idea. 

Andrew nodded and patted her shoulder reassuringly, before turning and making his way toward the exit, where a team of agents waited to escort him to his car. 

Steadying herself, Skye took a deep breath and placed her hand on the door handle of the room. She felt a nervous tremor shoot up her spine and her fingers twitched against the cool metal. She pushed open the door before she could change her mind, unsurprised when Ward’s eyes sought out her face and he squinted at her, clearly attempting to decipher her expression.

Skye’s breath caught in her throat as she stared back at his handsome face, now clean shaven and less wearied than a few days before. Still, the haunted look behind his brown eyes remained. 

“So? You cutting me loose?” he asked, his voice tight and unnatural. Clearly he expected to be abandoned once again and, although she knew that she deserved his suspicion, Skye felt a stab of annoyance. 

Skye rolled her eyes in an attempt to lighten the heavy atmosphere between them. But the smile she unwittingly directed at him did little to quell the insistent voice in her head that was warning her not to play with fire again. Silencing her fears for the moment, she nodded towards the door and tilted her head back in a challenging gesture. 

“On your feet, rookie. We’ve got work to do.”

The smile that ghosted across Ward’s lips was nostalgic, and Skye was almost pleased to see the gesture, although she made certain to mask any warmth she felt with a firm expression. There was a long way to go before Ward had earned anything more than her cordiality.

“Don’t think I’m going to go easy on you,” she challenged, eyeing Ward as he climbed to his feet and began to shrug on his by now familiar brown leather jacket. 

“I wouldn’t dare expect it,” he responded, one eyebrow shooting up, “I’m looking forward to rising to the challenge.”

“You better,” retorted Skye, pushing open the door and gesturing for Ward to follow in her wake. Part of her anticipated that this was a terrible idea, that Ward’s next betrayal was just a breath away, but she had never been one to listen much to logic. 

“So, who else is on your team?” Ward queried, genuine interest colouring his tone as he followed Skye down the corridor at a respectful distance. Since arriving at the Avengers facility a few days prior, he had been careful to maintain an air of civility with Skye that never seemed to allow him within more than three feet of her personal space. Whilst she appreciated the sentiment, the forced distance was beginning to grate on her nerves, but she supposed that, like Ward’s powers, she had to give it time. 

“At the moment, well, there’s you and... there’s me... and...” she trailed off, wrinkling her nose as she finished, “that’s pretty much the full head count.”

Ward tried desperately not to smile at the idea, knowing enough about the ‘new’ Skye to realise that his scepticism would not go over well. 

Skye intercepted his smile with an arched eyebrow, using the opportunity to covertly edge a little closer as they walked, despite the ‘all business’ tone to her voice. 

“Yeah, yeah, it’s hilarious. Keep moving.”

This time the silence that descended between them was comfortable and as they strolled towards the training room, each of them chanced the smallest of smiles. 

For the first time in his life, Ward had begun to feel hopeful and, with each step he took, he couldn’t shake the feeling that he was finally walking towards his destiny. 

Some things were just meant to be. 

x-x-x

The bar was completely silent and yet occupied; with their first official mission as a team complete, Quake and the newly christened Hellfire had fled to opposite ends of the facility, both too embarrassed by the way the operation had transpired to stand occupying the same room for more than a few seconds. Whilst Ward had little idea as to where Skye had escaped to, he had chosen to seek refuge where the liquor lived, realising that copious amounts of whiskey would perhaps prove his best chance at forgetting the disaster he had just been a part of. 

He was half way through his fourth glass of strong amber malt when he sensed a presence behind him, perhaps a little later than he ordinarily might have done. He raised his head drowsily, craning his neck to shoot a glance over his shoulder in the direction of the door and almost dropping his tumbler in the process as he took in the sight of Skye standing in the threshold of the hallway, sporting a pair of pyjamas and a bandaged wrist. 

Ward’s mouth opened of its own volition but, whilst he wanted nothing more than to extend an invitation to join him, he wasn’t entirely certain how well that might go over, and so he chose to remain silent. When he returned his attention to the bottle in front of him, he was vaguely aware of how stand-offish the gesture might appear, but there was little he could do to take it back when he was already pouring out his fifth glass. 

When her voice punctuated the awkward silence only seconds later, it caught him off-guard. 

“You did good out there today, Ward,” she stated, apparently genuinely pleased by his performance in the field if her expression was anything to go by. 

Ward blinked, pausing with the glass against his lips. He lowered it back down to the bar and turned to look at her in evident confusion. 

“I saved that woman over you,” he replied wearily. He had not been able to shake the intense guilt and self-loathing he had been consumed with since he’d made that call during their mission. The evening had concluded with the pair walking through an abandoned school, where a group of rogue Hydra agents had been holding a woman hostage because of her blossoming - and entirely unfocused - powers of telekinesis. With three agents remaining, all converging on Skye, it had come down to the choice of rescuing the hostage or doubling back to help her. Despite Skye’s insistence that she could take care of herself, the decision had weighed heavily on Ward; it had taken all of his newly acquired self-restraint to make the call he knew that Skye would want him to make as his team leader. 

“You did,” Skye bobbed her head, not waiting for an invitation as she drew the nearest stool closer and slid up onto it She cast a cautious glance around the facility bar, glad that none of the other agents seemed to be in need of an alcoholic beverage at that hour on a Tuesday evening. Her current attire was casual to say the least, and she didn’t really want an audience for the talk she knew she and Ward were now way past having. 

“And you’re not mad about that?” he asked, looking at her in disbelief. Before - before Hydra and Garrett - he had been her protector, and it was a role he would have been all too happy to fulfil again. The idea of losing Skye was unimaginable yet he had made the call that his still sketchy moral compass had swayed him to; to preserve the life of the defenceless innocent in the situation. Whilst he knew it was the technically right thing, it still had felt somehow like a betrayal. 

“Nope,” Skye shook her head, commandeering his glass and taking a sip. She winced as the whiskey stung her throat on the way down, and she took the moment before the molten burning hit her stomach to cast an eye over the man beside her. 

Over the months the tension and distrust between them had given way to camaraderie and a fledgeling trust that Skye would have thought impossible a year before. They were almost at the point of being able to label themselves as friends again. However, the deep, unspoken attraction that still existed between them was the proverbial elephant in the room , and it guaranteed that stolen glances, longing smiles and fraught physical contact clouded their training sessions together. 

Sometimes, Skye caught him looking at her like he remembered the taste of her lips and the feel of her skin beneath his fingers, and her stomach dipped in betrayal of her own secret desires. 

“You reminded me of a guy I used to know tonight. He was a hero. A good man,” she said softly, her tone turning playful as she added, “he just... lacked a positive influence.”

“He doesn’t any more,” Ward replied without missing a beat, entirely confused by Skye’s behaviour to do anything other than stare at her. 

She inhaled slowly, trying to swallow past the pounding of her heart as it echoed through her ribcage so loudly that she was certain the whole facility would hear it. In the field, she had managed to master the techniques May had taught her to push aside any anxiety or intensity of emotion she felt, yet in his presence, all her training was rendered useless. 

“I was going to suggest maybe we should finally get that drink, but... I see you started without me,” she directed a glance at the bottle perched beside his elbow on the bar. “Besides, I think it’s a little too late... we’re past that point...” 

Ward gulped but Skye held his gaze, probing softly, “Right?”

Ward longed for nothing more than the ability to extract himself from her gaze as he attempted to make sense of her words. He was no fool, and the conclusion he drew swiftly and with a sinking kind of certainty was that Skye was ending the hope he had lately been allowing himself to feel. 

“Skye...” he began, blinking as she pressed her palm to his cheek and somewhat forcefully directed his head down to hers. Her lips landed roughly against his and all coherent thought left him. She pressed closer, the scent of her perfume and warmth of her body overwhelming, and when her tongue grazed his lower lip he could do nothing but growl into her mouth. 

Still, reason and past experience got the better of him, and Ward pulled away, eyes still trained hungrily on her lips. “Skye... What are you doing?”

“Taking a chance,” she replied breathlessly, moulding her palm to his cheek, “what about you?”

Ward’s eyes clouded over, his lust and longing temporarily outweighing his trepidation as he crushed his lips against Skye’s, his hand raking through her hair whilst he locked her body against his own. 

Drawing away for just a breathless moment, he peered down at Skye, somewhat confused as he inquired, “Just so I know... you’re kissing me because I didn’t save you?”

Skye giggled, nodding her head as she reached up and brushed the pad of her thumb along the curve of Ward’s brow. 

“Kind of,” she admonished, her expression sobering a little as she added, “but I’m also kissing you because I want to... because I’ve wanted to for a while now.”

“Skye, maybe you shouldn’t...” Ward began, his eyes downcast as he gently cradled Skye to his chest, one hand settling on her waist and the other resting flat against her neck. 

“Ward, let me decide what I should or shouldn’t do. Just don’t give me a reason to doubt you again and we’re good,” she murmured, staring up into his eyes, the traces of a tired but contented smile playing across her lips. 

Her fingers grazed the skin at the back of his neck, and the innate tenderness of the gesture made his heart ache. She gazed up at him like she wanted him, as if he were somehow enough for her - as if she truly felt something for him that was so much more than he deserved. 

“You deserve better than me, Skye...” he murmured sadly, trying to ignore the surging fire flooding his veins. He felt as if every nerve in his body was being consumed by the blaze, fuelled by his desire, like gasoline poured onto flames. Skye’s eyes only darkened with hunger, and Ward wondered if it was in fact her that was responsible for fanning the inferno. 

Skye’s fingertips landed on his lips in a bid to silence him, and she shook her head in warning, watching as his eyelids fluttered closed. 

“The new Grant Ward? He talks too much,” she informed him, before sealing her lips over his. She murmured approval against his mouth as he finally seized the initiative and hauled her from the bar stool, dragging them both to their feet and lifting her onto the tips of her toes. With arms fastened tightly around her, Ward knew his resolve was gone the second her body brushed against his. He curved himself around her, demanding more and more as his tongue met hers and his hands swept across her body. 

The sheer want and need was like nothing he had experienced before, and it was only the gentle yet increasing rumble at their feet that forced them to break apart. The ground shuddered beneath them and Skye stood panting breathlessly, eyes flashing open as she clung to him. She tried and failed to ignore the all too smug smirk that had settled on his face. The sound of clinking glass only made his smile widen as the bottles and tumblers stowed away behind the small bar began to judder. 

“Shut up,” she ordered with a soft laugh, suddenly whimpering as Ward craned his neck and began trailing reverent kisses down the column of her throat. 

“This could be dangerous, Skye,” he warned, feeling a not wholly unpleasant warmth begin to seep from his palms as his hands slid under her pyjama shirt and made contact with her bare back. 

“But it could be everything... Right?” she countered, combing her fingers through his thick, dark hair. She pulled herself up to brush kisses against the corner of his mouth and across the stubble peppering his jaw. 

Ward’s palm drifted up to cup her cheek and his thumb skimmed gently across her cheekbone. His expression was lovestruck, effortlessly betraying not only the intensity of his feelings - which were perhaps about to be realised - but also reflecting his utter disbelief that a guy like him could ever find someone like her; the perfect match - someone who could withstand the flames. 

“It already is.”


End file.
